The Storn That Now Has Passed
by beatles-revelution1204
Summary: some one decides to pay Romano a visit on a rainy day, and well stuff happens. I'm being careful with rating since it's my first story, rated T for Romano's potty mouth and blood
1. Chapter 1

The Storm That Now Has Passed

The sky darkened as Romano walked out of his house; he slowly made his way toward his tomato fields. "F***, I hate the goddamn rain it's too cold and wet." He kept his head low and failed to notice that the sky had darkened to a shade that rivaled black. He slowly turned to his left and reached his tomato fields. He walked through the small gate, into the field dotted with red. He picked up his basket hurriedly; he had finally noticed the sky's ominous shade. Just as he picked the last tomato, the sky suddenly opened up. Romano took his anger out by yelling at the sky: "what, you stupid f***ing rain drops couldn't wait till I was home?!" he grumbled as he kept his head down, trying to keep the rain from stinging his face. Just as he was about to reach his house, he bumped into something. Romano in shock had dropped all of his tomatoes. When he finished picking up his tomatoes he looked up ready to cuss out the culprit, he of course had not expected to see Francis standing before him with a weird twisted look on his face.

Romano did what Italians do best, and high tailed it out of there, and took his precious tomatoes with him.

He ran for 5 minutes till he realized he had missed his house by about a mile. He swore again ( it was along string of curses too) and walked back toward his house. After 10 minutes he was fully and thoroughly soaked with cold rain water, but safe inside his house.

Romano quickly put down his basket fully of tomatoes and sauntered upstairs to get into some dry clothes. After sometime, he came down in a white button down shirt and a simple pair of jeans. He retraced his steps and found his basket of tomatoes and then proceeded to lug them to his kitchen. Romano also felt like being lazy, and decided not to wash them, and seriously they had been exposed to rain water for so damn long. He took out his knife and slowly began to chop his previously harvested tomatoes, in a long and heavy silence.

He chopped carefully making each cut the same and perfect as he could. He focused so much that he failed to hear the multiple knocks on his front door; he also failed to notice that the visitor had entered.

The visitor walked quietly through Romano's house, in hope of finding the southern half of Italy. He finally passed the kitchen door to hear the steady sound of a knife hitting a cutting board. He smiled as he found his 'younger brother', or so he referred to Romano as, since he had raised him. He slowly and quietly made his way toward Romano, when he reached the small brunette he knew not to yell or he might get a knife stuck in him, so he instead decided to just tap him on the shoulder. Of course when he did this, Romano jumped 10 feet in the air and dropped his knife on his own hand. "ESPANA?! What the hell?! Could you not see that I was chopping tomatoes?!" Once he finished his angry tirade he finally noticed the knife on the floor with blood, his blood. Antonio also noticed this and ran to get the first aid kit.

* * *

this is my first story and i think i might actually make this a series you know, tell me what you think, k?

So this is gonna be like brotherly love, cause i don't know how to write yaoi, and i might also place a Prussia x Hungary story.

well tell me what 'cha think ok? : )


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 ~ Aftershock

After find his way through Romano's huge house, trying to find a first aid kit, Antonio found it within the upstairs bathroom's medicine cabinet. He rushed back through the maze that Romano called a house and found his way back to the kitchen. "Romano, Romano", Antonio whispered to his former charge as he found the boy sitting on the tiled kitchen floor. Antonio walked quietly toward the nation on the floor, and took Romano's hand in his own. "Stupido Spagna per quale ragione decoro a loro strisciare sù indietro me?" Romano ranted on in Italian for a while, while Antonio fixed up his hand. The look on the Spaniard's face was one of mixed with hurt and remorse but also included thrill and humor along with his classic unwavering smile. Antonio apologized multiple times but nothing he said calmed the raging Italian. As he stood to walk away Romano swiftly grabbed the crisp shirt collar.

He mumbled something about his hand hurting and that he needed his food made for him. The Spanish man agreed started to make a dish out of the previously harvested tomatoes. He cooked for an hour or so, happy to once again be called on for help by Romano, so happy to once again be needed and actually wanted in the house. He put the final touches on the dishes and then wandered around the house to find his former charge.

Antonio found Romano lounging on the couch with the T.V's volume loud enough to shatter someone's eardrum, namely his. The room was only lit by glow of the T.V. Antonio slowly walked to the T.V and shut the show off, and the room fell silent and dark. He walked toward his former charge. Antonio ruffled Romano's hair avoiding the stubborn curl, as he tried, in vain, to wake Romano. The southern country finally opened his eyes and, stretched as he woke. He mumbled curses under his breath and whined about having several more minutes of his siesta. He once was fully awake, Romano took one look at Antonio and practically jumped off the couch, and proceeded to land on his floor. He again let out a stream of colorful Italian curses and turned from Antonio. " Oye, bastard! What did you make me for dinner, since you fucked up my hand?" Spain moved from the couch and followed his former charge into the kitchen. "I made you some Gazpacho, Lovi~!" Romano glared at Antonio, and then tried to think of a remark, but came up short. Romano walked into the kitchen to find it the cleanest it had been in months, and in it the smell of freshly cooked tomatoes. He checked the counter, but found nothing. "Stupido Spagna, where is the food?" "I put it in the dining room." He walked to the dining room, and was awed by the sight. On the long oak table, there were 2 plates of Gazpacho, and some wine. "Oh holy shit", he thought and sat down at the table.

Romano just stared as Antonio sat across from him, and opened the bottle of wine, pouring easily half of its contents into the two glasses. Antonio then dug into his plate of Gazpacho, urging Romano to eat his with wild hand gestures and noises that were supposed to make words but could not be understood, because of the food in his mouth. Romano slowly put his spoon in the bowl and up his mouth. It was good, in fact he hadn't had a decent Gazpacho since he left Spain's house to live with his brother. Spain smiled as Romano continued to eat the meal; he even took a sip of the wine once or twice, before he excused himself for a glass of water. Antonio was quite satisfied, knowing that Romano liked the Gazpacho, even if he would never voice it.

The dinner was soon finished, and Romano reluctantly helped Antonio in the kitchen. Antonio would wash the dishes while Romano dried them, since it wouldn't be a good thing to get his bandages wet. They finished quickly, and it wasn't thanks to the fact that Romano broke one of the plates.

Romano left Antonio to put away the dishes, traveling back to the living room and switching on the T.V, he winced at the deafening volume, and turned it down by about 20 degrees. Antonio came in shortly and sat next the Italian, looking at the show he had landed on. "Stupid Jersey Shore, they make Italians seem like fucking idiots…" Antonio stared at Romano; he didn't think Romano would take it to heart, since the show was American. "Lovi, their Italian Americans, they don't count." Romano still continued to grumble, although he knew the American part was the one that probably made them so stupid; like Alfred. The two sat in silence for a bit, just watching the stupidity unfold. Then Romano had had enough and threw the remote at the screen, successfully breaking it.

Romano huffed and puffed again, Antonio laughing the whole time. Romano finally got so fed up that he wanted to slap him but didn't. Antonio sat there remembering when Romano was a child, still acting as he was at the moment.

**Flash back Antonio's POV **

I would come back from one of my long trips to America, or another country, always late at night, expecting Romano to be asleep, and he usually was; in _my_ bed.  
Then there was that one time, it was after a particularly long trip to America, it had apparently been raining for the entire time I was gone, but I did not give a second thought to the fact. But on the day I returned, it had grown into a horrible thunderstorm. I walked into my house, being quite large at the time, and closed the door behind me. I shook the water from my hair, droplets hitting me in the face. I walked up to my room, expecting to see Romano sleeping peacefully, but he was not there. I remember being so incredibly worried, ran through my whole house! I finally found him, under his sheets trembling.

**Present time**

Just as Antonio's flashback had ended, the rain started to come down heavy on the terracotta roof, very unexpectedly. Romano jumped as the first crash of lightning came, again with the second. He trembled as the thunder made the windows vibrated, making the old windows rattle, and the pipes clink. Romano shivered as the cold drafts came pouring in, the heat not being able to fend them off.

Romano ran up to his room after the fifth crack of lighting came, unable to stand it anymore. Antonio followed calmly; knowing he would stay the night, to help is precious former charge. Romano was in his room by the time Antonio reached the top of the stairs Romano was also under the covers by the time Antonio reached the door. Antonio closed the curtains, in a futile attempt to block out the streaks of lighting that illuminated blackened night time sky. Romano hidden by the sheets turned his back to Antonio. Antonio took this opportunity to draw circles on the Italian's back. They waited there together, neither falling asleep, just silently comforting one another, in their own special way. Antonio, acting like a parent for once, Romano acting below normal, not fussing under Antonio's touch, just remaining silent and still, except for a tremble of fear here and there.

It was into the early morning, most likely about 3 in the morning by the time the storm quieted. Romano would not fall asleep still, too petrified by the storm that had passed. Antonio pulled the boy toward him, whispering words of comfort in Spanish, hushing the rigid nation that he adored so much.

Finally Romano closed his eyes, sinking into the Spaniard's embrace, along with the embrace of slumber. Antonio drew circles into the back of the sleeping boy, soon sleeping alongside the young southern nation. The storm had now passed, and the calmness had been once again restored.

_Translation: stupid Spain, why would you sneak up behind me? (I don't trust my translator, so correct me if you speak fluent Spanish.)_

_ ~ I don't know if I should end it here, so I need your reviews PLEASE!_

_People who review are EPIC! Are __**you**__ Epic?_


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